Mark Pollins

Biography of Mark Pollins

Mark Pollins Poems

Palestine Children's Rhyme
I was hit in the head by the truth one day
Ever since the incident I've crawled this way
So stick their legs, arms, hearts in plaster
Tell me lies about Palestine

Here And There In The Land Of Israel, Wi...
In the trendy Jazz club, in Tel-Aviv,
In the warm kiss of two properly-brought up teenagers,
On the waves of the loud music emanating from the fast, safe cars on highways,
Out in the cool night air, caressing the neatly carved kibbutz fields,

Counting Crows
Jumping, sliding along a blue rail,
The crow seems at home next to the half-eaten somethings
On plates, in the open-air restaurant.
Another one, cheekier than the first, lands

Cool
I still blame my incompetence for my father’s death. Is it four poundings to the heart, then six breaths into the misshapen mouth? Should I get a note-book out and notch up each breath? What a mess. I informed the operator in a matter-of-fact manner: “If the ambulance doesn’t arrive soon, they won’t have any reason to come.” Mad dog barking, snarling; while my mother was led off to the bed-room to spare her the last lifeless attempts. But me, I was cool, as if preparing to go out and see a film. It was Friday night, we had to arrange for two Muslims* to remove my father’s body… “unless you’d rather it stayed here until Saturday night”, offered the ambulance driver. The last time my father left our home he was naked, covered by two thick blankets which acted as a stretcher. The two Arabs carried the body out to a big van; they nearly banged it on the back doors. I said, “Be careful with his head”, not fully understanding the implications of the sentence.

Breaking Of Certainties
At the time of breaking of certainties,
When my eyes express absolute truisms,
Shelley’s Wild West Wind seems chilling
On such a hot sweltering day.

While Taking A Bite Of My Sloppy Felafel...
while taking a bite of my sloppy felafel pita
while wiping the windscreen-wipers of my new car
while lying on the beach in the hot, hot sun
while reading all the right articles in the right paper

Having Fun At The New Mall
I cling to the handle of the heavy fire-door
that keeps the new mall safe from fire.
The hefty push down
helps push you one further step

The Boys Are Rocking Tonight
The boys are rocking tonight,
There’s a bonfire they have lit,
Little girls - clutching eachothers tiny hands -
Are dancing around the orange flames.

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Singing Myself To Sleep

Seven hours of television a day are watched in an average American home.The Drug-store cowboy, replaces the Western lone-ranger.A picture of children smiling in their sleep, Seems out of place in a shop window on Broadway.A beggar girl showers me with compliments to make sure she’ll get my change.The passengers of a tired evening subway, dart suspicious looks at my friend and & I, For we are smiling, talking loudly, enjoying ourselves.